


the wedding night

by almostafantasia



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Babysitting, F/F, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-24
Updated: 2017-09-24
Packaged: 2019-01-05 02:22:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12181038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almostafantasia/pseuds/almostafantasia
Summary: A tale of dancing, vodka sodas, and the frustrating presence of a toddler when all Waverly really wants to do is get off with the hot redhead she meets at her sister’s wedding.





	the wedding night

“Another, please!”

Draining the last of her vodka soda, Waverly places the empty glass down on the bar and flags down the bartender. It’ll be her third of the night but she isn’t feeling the effects yet, and probably won’t until the fourth or fifth. The wedding reception featured a three course meal from the best catering company within fifty miles of Purgatory (Waverly would know, being the one who booked them because Wynonna’s response to planning her own wedding was to make a very thorough inspection of the liquor cabinet at the homestead) and Waverly’s stomach is lined with enough good food to soak up the alcohol.

Waverly isn’t drinking to get drunk, anyway. It’s just that when the other option is to watch Wynonna and her new husband dance happily together while everybody coos over the happy couple, making use of the open bar seems like the better idea.

She is an Earp, after all.

Today is a day that Waverly never thought would come; the day that Wynonna, a notorious commitment-phobe, is choosing to settle down and take a husband. It’s a big shock to anybody who knows Wynonna even the slightest, but it’s hitting Waverly particularly hard.

Waverly always thought that it would be the other way around, that _she_ would be the one in the huge white dress publically declaring her love for her soulmate in front of all of her loved ones, while Wynonna sat alone at the bar finding solace in the bottom of a glass and making cynical comments about the impermanence of love.

Waverly is happy for Wynonna, of _course_ she is. But that doesn’t mean that she can’t also be sad for herself.

“So, what is the maid of honor doing drinking alone at the bar?”

Waverly looks up from the drink she’s been swirling around its glass with a straw as an unknown redhead slides onto the stool next to hers. The woman flags down the bartender, ordering herself a martini, then turns her attention to Waverly with her eyebrows raised and the barest hint of a smile teasing at her pink lips as she waits for an answer.

“And you are…?”

Waverly recognises the woman from earlier in the day – she remembers setting eyes on her during the ceremony and being a little envious of how good the dark blue dress that clings to her curves looks on her – but they’ve never actually met before and Waverly thinks that it’s good manners to at least get a stranger’s name before spilling her deepest secrets to them.

“I’m Nicole,” the woman replies, holding out a hand, which Waverly tentatively shakes. “Nicole Haught.” Nicole leans forward slightly, a knowing look in her eyes, as she says, “And you are Waverly Earp. Sister of the bride, maid of honor and, in my humble opinion, the prettiest girl in the room.”

“Are you always this forward?” Waverly asks shyly, her cheeks blushing delicately as she flusters under Nicole’s gaze. She has to admit though, after a whole day of listening to everybody fuss over Wynonna (and rightfully so, Wynonna looks _gorgeous_ in her wedding dress) it’s quite nice to be the object of somebody’s flattery.

“Only when I see something that I like,” Nicole replies, as smoothly as if she has practiced these lines one hundred times before approaching Waverly. “So, you never did tell me why you’re drinking alone at your sister’s wedding.”

“I usually love weddings,” Waverly begins to explain. She gestures around the room, to where everybody is dancing and smiling, to where the drinks are flowing and the music is pumping out from the heavy speaker system on either side of the DJ, before continuing, “I mean, why _wouldn’t_ I? They’re a celebration of love, two people coming together and promising to stick by each other’s side for the rest of eternity.” Waverly raises a single eyebrow and adds, slightly as an afterthought, “Of course, around forty percent of marriages end in divorce but at a wedding everybody ignores that and believes that this marriage is going to be one of the sixty percent that doesn’t.”

“If you love weddings, what’s different about this one?” Nicole takes a sip of her martini, before placing the glass down on the bar and holding up a hand to stop Waverly from answering, before she continues, “Wait, don’t tell me. You’re in love with Dolls.”

“God, no!” Waverly shakes her head with a laugh. “I’m not _that_ much of a cliché!”

Waverly pauses for a few seconds to take a drink, before she grimaces and decides to finish her explanation.

“I was engaged,” she tells Nicole. “To a man. Perry. Rich, handsome, kind, the whole deal really.” Waverly pauses to contemplate how life used to be with Perry, how he provided her with stability and a moderate amount of happiness. “But somehow he wasn’t enough and I ended it. That was just over a week ago. Seeing two other people who are happily in love with each other promising to spend the rest of their lives together is pretty much the last thing I want to be doing right now. But I can’t miss my own sister’s wedding!”

Nicole reaches out with one of her hands and places it over Waverly’s, a welcome warmth that bring her a little bit of comfort.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Nicole tells her honestly. “Sometimes you can have the greatest person in the world by your side but if there isn’t that spark, then it’s never going to be perfect. And it sucks, but if that person just isn’t right for you, then you can’t force it.” Nicole leans a little closer, then adds, “I say that as part of the forty percent.”

Her eyes widening as she realises what Nicole is telling her, Waverly asks, “You were married?”

“It was a shotgun wedding in Vegas,” Nicole nods with a laugh, shaking her own head and the incredulity of the situation. “She was a great woman – she still _is_ – and for that one night, and the two and a half months after we got married, we both thought it would work. But it didn’t, and so we split. Very amicably, I might add. We still Skype each other every weekend and she tells me about her new girlfriend and her job at the hospital while I complain about the single life and how frustrating it is to be the only woman at the station.”

“The station?” Waverly queries confusedly.

“Oh, sorry,” says Nicole. “I’m a cop.”

Waverly’s eyes nearly pop out of her head as she processes this new piece of information, and before she knows what is happening, she finds herself mentally replacing Nicole’s dress with the uniform of a police officer. The dark blue dress is gorgeous, but there’s just something about the visual of Nicole in a pristine uniform with a gun in her hand and a pair of handcuffs dangling from her belt that has Waverly’s mouth suddenly feeling incredibly dry.

“Oh, wow!” Waverly chokes, taking a quick sip of her drink to sooth her dry mouth, though it is a different kind of thirst that she’s suffering from. “So you’re a friend of Dolls then?”

“Xavier and I trained together at the police academy,” answers Nicole, with a nod. “Then he went off to do whatever mysterious Special Forces thing it is that he does, while I became a local flatfoot. We don’t see each other often but we exchange Christmas cards. I have to admit, I was surprised when I received the wedding invitation and I just had to come to see what kind of woman could tie down a guy like Dolls!”

“Wynonna is quite something,” Waverly grins.

“Can I let you in on a secret?” asks Nicole. Waverly’s face sobers and she nods, which Nicole takes as an invitation to lean closer, before whispering, “So is her sister.”

Waverly glances away, blushing at the compliment, but she can’t help the smile that passes her lips. Nicole, though just a stranger until not too long ago, seems to know exactly what to say to lift Waverly’s mood. Before Nicole’s arrival at the bar, Waverly has been counting down the minutes until it would be acceptable for the maid of honor to leave the wedding reception and retire to her hotel room upstairs. But now, Waverly finds herself wanting to stay here in the company of this charming police officer for a little bit longer.

Waverly picks her glass up off the bar, draining the last few dregs through the straw before putting it back down and pushing herself off the bar stool that has been her home for a good portion of this evening. Gesturing with a nod of her head towards the crowded dance floor, Waverly looks up at Nicole with a hopeful smile on her face.

“Dance with me?”

Nicole’s face cracks open into a wide smile and she finishes her own drink quickly, before taking Waverly’s outstretched hand.

“Well how can I say no to an offer like that?”

With Nicole’s hand in her own, Waverly leads the way to the dance floor, a winding path past the large circular tables and abandoned chairs, until they are on the edge of the crowd dancing merrily in the centre of the reception room. Not too far away, Wynonna is quite the sight, headbanging with a couple of the friends she met on her European travels a few years ago, a glass of whiskey in one hand and her fourteen month old daughter held against her side with the other arm.

But Waverly doesn’t want to pay attention to Wynonna. Not when there’s a gorgeous redhead in front of her, eyes lit up like it’s Christmas morning, waiting to dance with her.

It takes them a few songs to get fully comfortable dancing with each other. They start off holding hands as they nervously move their bodies to the music, then Waverly gets a little bolder and drapes her arms around Nicole’s neck, to which Nicole responds by placing each hand in a respectful position on Waverly’s waist. Their new positioning means that they’re a lot closer, bodies flush against each other. Waverly can feel every movement of Nicole’s hips, can smell Nicole’s musk each time she inhales, can see the tiny flecks of gold in the thin ring of dark brown that surrounds Nicole’s blown pupils.

Waverly wants to kiss Nicole. That much becomes apparent alarmingly soon after Nicole’s hands find their way to Waverly’s waist. She wants nothing more than to bury her hand in those short red curls and bring Nicole’s mouth to hers.

But then Nicole’s eyes darken almost imperceptibly, as if she knows the exact direction that Waverly’s thoughts have just taken, and Waverly realises that actually, she wants quite a lot more than that.

Waverly has a very nice hotel room all to herself three floors up from where they are now, with a mini-bar and a lovely king-sized bed that would be ideal for an assortment of very appealing activities, but most of all the hotel room has _privacy_. The wedding guests are all having a great time and Waverly doubts that anybody would pay too much attention to the maid of honor slipping out of the party slightly early with her hand clasped firmly with the hand of an attractive redhead.

There’s just one fundamental flaw in the plan.

“Nicole, I have to tell you…”

Waverly doesn’t have the chance to get all her words out. Before she can finish, she’s being pulled out of Nicole’s embrace and the writhing body of her baby niece is being transferred into her arms.

“It’s Auntie Waverly’s turn!” Wynonna grins, as she transfers custody of little Alice over to Waverly, oblivious to the moment that she’s interrupted between the two women who, up until mere seconds ago, had been locked in each other’s arms on a night that seemed destined to continue getting steamier.

All prospects of intimacy of any kind with Nicole have been shattered by the toddler that tries to wriggle out of Waverly’s arms as Waverly adjusts her grip on Alice to a more comfortable position against her side.

“I think it’s about time the wedding night kicked off,” Wynonna tells Waverly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. Wynonna’s eyes flit across to where Dolls stands a few feet away, engaged in a polite conversation with a distant Earp uncle, before she adds, “I mean, have you seen how hot he looks in a tux?”

“Go,” Waverly insists, hoping that by hurrying her sister up to the honeymoon suite, she can avoid any further details about the activities that will be taking place inside it tonight. “Enjoy yourself. Alice will be fine with me.”

“You know where I am if there’s an emergency but I swear to god,” Wynonna raises a threatening finger at Waverly and continues in a growl through clenched teeth, “if you disturb me for anything less than my daughter actually dying, then…”

“Wynonna,” Waverly interrupts, using the hand that isn’t supporting Alice to touch her sister’s shoulder in a silent reassurance. “I think you underestimate how unappealing the prospect of interrupting your wedding night is to me. Go and have fun. And for the love of god, _please_ use protection if you don’t want another one of these running around in nine months.”

Wynonna pulls a face, rolling her eyes at Waverly, before disappearing back into the crowd on the dancefloor and taking her husband’s hand as they start to make their goodbyes.

“Hey there, munchkin!” says Waverly, turning her attention to the toddler in her arms. “Are you ready to spend the night with Auntie Wa-wa?”

“Wa-wa?” Nicole asks with a laugh, raising an eyebrow that has Waverly blushing shyly.

“Waverly is a little hard for a fourteen month old to say,” explains Waverly. She looks at Alice, who has her fingers wrapped around a chunk of Waverly’s hair and is trying to bring it to her mouth, then back at Nicole as she says, “I’m so sorry. I’m having such a good time with you, but I agreed to babysit Alice so that Wynonna and Dolls can … you know. It’s probably time for me to get her ready for bed.”

“It’s okay,” nods Nicole. “I understand.”

Waverly can see the disappointment flash across Nicole’s face, but it’s only momentary, because Nicole regains her composure so quickly that Waverly wonders if she even saw it at all. She hopes desperately that her own reluctance to part ways with her new acquaintance is mirrored in Nicole, and with that in mind, she comes up with an idea.

“Unless you want to … I don’t know, would you be interested in helping me babysit?” Waverly asks hopefully, gesturing to her niece. “You can say no, of course, but in that case I’ll have to insist on giving you my number because I’d really like to see you again.”

“I’m really not ready for tonight to end,” admits Nicole, a nervous little smile decorating her pretty lips. “You’re a really special woman, Waverly Earp. And as long as it’s okay with your sister, I’d love to help you look after Alice tonight.”

“I don’t think asking if I can co-babysit with a hot cop ranks high enough on Wynonna’s scale of emergency to warrant disturbing her,” Waverly laughs. “But she’ll be fine with it. You’re an officer of the law, after all! That makes you twice as responsible as the rest of us!”

There’s a twinkle in Nicole’s eye as she replies, “Let’s see about that.”

It takes them a few minutes to gather up their belongings ready to leave the reception, mostly because Alice, perhaps sensing that they are about to leave the party full of people who have been fussing over her and giving her attention all day, chooses that exact moment to throw a bit of a tantrum. Waverly is grateful for Nicole’s presence at her side, as Nicole holds both of their purses in her arms and has Waverly’s discarded heels hooked over two of her fingers, while Waverly concentrates on keeping Alice in a good mood until they can get her into bed.

“Just to be clear,” says Waverly, as they make their way out of the crowded reception room and into the much quieter hotel foyer, towards the elevators that will take them upstairs to Waverly’s room. “I’m not inviting you up for any funny business.”

“Oh god, I know,” Nicole replies hastily, eyes wide at the suggestion. “I never thought that you were…”

“Not that I wouldn’t want to because, well – _hello_.” Waverly emphasises her point by gesturing down Nicole’s body and hoping that it conveys her point. “If Alice wasn’t in the equation, I’m not sure I’d be able to stop myself, but we can’t. Not with a toddler in the room.”

“Waverly, it’s fine,” assures Nicole, resting her hand on Waverly’s arm as they step into the elevator, before allowing Waverly to press the button for her floor. “I’m not agreeing to help babysit because I think it’ll get me laid, I’m agreeing because I want to spend more time with you.” Nicole attention shifts to Alice, grinning at the toddler as she starts speaking in more of a sing-song voice, “And because you are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Aren’t you?”

Nicole pulls a series of faces at the toddler in Waverly’s arms and Alice babbles happily in response, waving a chubby fist in Nicole’s direction.

“She seems to like you,” Waverly muses aloud. “Do you spend much time with children? Any nieces or nephews of your own?”

“No,” Nicole shakes her head. “I guess it comes naturally. Well, I’ve been trained to make people feel at ease in tricky situations, and perhaps babies are no different.”

“Hmm,” Waverly agrees. “There _is_ something about you.”

Nicole’s head flicks up and she looks at Waverly, letting out a confused laugh, as she asks, “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” explains Waverly, “from the moment you joined me at the bar, I felt oddly comforted by your presence, even before I learned that you’re a police officer. You made me feel important, like you really cared about what I had to say. I liked it.”

Before Nicole can respond, the elevator pings and the doors slide open as a tinny female voice speaks through the tannoy system and announces that they have reached Waverly’s floor.

“The key is in my purse,” Waverly says to Nicole, as they stop outside her hotel room.

Nicole fumbles with the catch before delving around inside the small bag and pulling out the little plastic card that will unlock the room. She holds it against the card reader on the door and the light blinks green as the door clicks open, allowing them inside.

Nicole hesitates on the threshold, even after Waverly has carried Alice inside and placed the toddler on the carpeted floor.

“I think I might pop back to my own room for a moment,” says Nicole. When Waverly’s eyes widen in panic, worried that she’s acted rashly by inviting Nicole to help look after Alice after barely knowing each other, Nicole is quick to continue, “Just to get changed into something more comfortable. Then I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Waverly sighs in relief.

“That sounds like a good idea. I need to run Alice a bath anyway.”

* * *

By the time Nicole returns, the blue dress that Waverly appreciated so much replaced with grey sweatpants and a baggy police academy t-shirt that Waverly decides looks just as good on the redhead, the bathtub is filled with warm soapy water and Alice is splashing around happily.

Nicole pokes her head around the bathroom door when she returns, greeting Waverly with a smile, before disappearing back into the bedroom. Waverly hears the sound of the other woman flopping down on the bed, before Nicole’s voice calls out from the other room.

“Correct me if I’m being ignorant, but something tells me that Alice isn’t Dolls’ biological daughter.”

“Nope,” answers Waverly with a laugh, as she uses a warm washcloth to wipe at the bubbles covering Alice’s torso, a task that is much harder than it should be because of the way that Alice refuses to sit still. “Alice is the accidental product of a one night stand that Wynonna had with Doc Holliday just before she started seeing Dolls.”

“Doc Hol-?” starts Nicole confusedly. “Wait, wasn’t he the best man?”

“Yeah. It’s complicated. But Alice has two daddies who love her very much.” Waverly wipes at the suds that have made their way to Alice’s cheek, before grinning at her niece and continuing, “Almost as much as Auntie Waverly loves her.”

As if she understands exactly what Waverly is saying, Alice thrashes around happily in the bathwater, sending a few splashes of soapy water over the side of the tub and onto Waverly’s dress. Waverly wishes that she’d had the foresight to change out of her dress and into some pyjamas before giving Alice her bath.

“She’s a very lucky girl,” Nicole says form the bedroom.

“She is,” agrees Waverly.

* * *

Getting Alice into bed is a relatively easy task, particularly with two of them there. Waverly gets Alice out of the bath and dries her off with a fluffy hotel-issue towel and changes her into her pyjamas. Nicole is on hand to help with the bedtime story, reading each of the characters with a different voice and even using a couple of Alice’s stuffed animals to help act out the story, and it’s such a shame that Alice, tired from a long day at her mother’s wedding, doesn’t stay awake long enough to listen to the whole story, because Waverly thinks that Nicole’s storytelling is one of the cutest darn things she’s ever seen.

“This is the weirdest first date ever,” Nicole laughs quietly, once Waverly has carried Alice’s sleeping form over to the second bed and tucked her in beneath the soft comforter.

“You mean you haven’t babysat your date’s niece before?” asks Waverly, arching an eyebrow at Nicole as she crosses the room to switch off the main light, leaving the room bathed only in the dim orange glow of the lamp on the nightstand. “At least tonight will be memorable.”

“Tonight was already memorable.”

Waverly blushes, avoiding looking at Nicole by using the excuse of fumbling in her suitcase for a pair of pyjamas.

“You’re such a smooth talker,” she responds shyly.

“Is it working?”

When Waverly glances up, a pair of soft cotton pyjamas clutched in her hands, she finds Nicole looking at her with intrigue, a single eyebrow raised as she waits for an answer to her question.

“Maybe,” Waverly answers, before dashing into the bathroom with her pyjamas to get changed.

* * *

Waverly emerges from the bathroom a few minutes later, her faced wiped clean of makeup and her breath minty fresh.

“Wow,” Nicole says from the bed, lifting her gaze from her phone to look at Waverly. “I wish I’d worn something a bit nicer.”

Waverly blushes slightly embarrassed by her attire. The pyjamas are skimpy, just a thin camisole and a pair of cotton shorts that probably show way too much skin to be deemed acceptable, but in Waverly’s defence, she hadn’t known that she would have nocturnal company when she packed her bag for Wynonna’s wedding.

But, if the appreciative expression on Nicole’s face is anything to go by, the lack of coverage her pyjamas offer is not necessarily a bad thing.

Waverly clambers onto her side of the bed, slipping beneath the comforter and feeling a lot less self-conscious about what she is wearing now that most of her body is hidden by the covers.

“Right,” she says, eager to change the topic of conversation. “So where were we before we got interrupted by Wynonna?”

Nicole puts her phone down on the nightstand, and then says confidently, “I believe you were about to kiss me.”

Waverly’s eyes bulge out of her head at Nicole’s words, and she splutters, “What?”

“Oh sorry, my bad,” says Nicole, raising her hand to her face as if she has made a genuine mistake. The only indication that her words are deliberate is the look she shoots Waverly next, eyes dark and lips curling into a seductive smile, before she corrects herself, “ _I_ was about to kiss _you_.”

Waverly’s mouth goes dry. She can’t deny that she was definitely thinking about kissing Nicole when Wynonna so rudely interrupted them during the wedding reception (kissing Nicole, _and_ a whole lot more), but now that she knows Nicole has been thinking about it too, Waverly suddenly loses the ability to function like a normal human. Her brain shuts off, her mouth forgets how to form words, and she can do nothing but stare at Nicole dumbly.

Of course, Waverly already knew that Nicole is attracted to her. Nicole has made no secret of that since the moment she approached Waverly at the bar and introduced herself, and her attentions have been far from unwelcome. But there’s something about hearing Nicole confess outright that she actually _wants_ Waverly, even after their strange adventures into childcare, that leaves Waverly feeling surprised.

“Really?” Waverly manages to choke out.

“Would you be okay with that?”

Waverly suppresses a snort. She doesn’t understand how there can be any doubt in Nicole’s mind about whether she would be okay with being kissed, but she gives Nicole the verbal clarification that she needs regardless.

“I would.”

And then Nicole is leaning in, shifting the position of her body on the bed so that she’s almost sitting on her side, even as she moves her face closer to Waverly’s. One of Nicole’s hands, the one that isn’t propping up most of her bodyweight, rises to cup Waverly’s cheek, her skin soft against Waverly’s, and the touch causes Waverly’s breath to hitch in her throat.

Waverly doesn’t know what to do with her own hand, doesn’t know whether to reciprocate Nicole’s movements or to bury them in Nicole’s short hair or to seek out Nicole’s waist and rest one there, and her indecisiveness means that they remain limp in her own lap.

But soon Waverly has bigger problems, as Nicole’s mouth nears her own and her lungs forget how to work and she finds herself unable to breathe.

The solution to that problem is a simple one. Nicole’s lips touch her own and suddenly oxygen doesn’t matter, not when Nicole’s kiss is providing all the fuel that Waverly needs to live. It’s infinitely softer than Waverly imagined it to be, but there’s something behind the slow press of lips, perhaps a fire waiting to be stoked, that has Waverly’s entire body thrumming with electricity.

Waverly gasps, and one of the hands that she didn’t know what to do with instinctively finds its way to the back of Nicole’s neck, where she tangles the fingers in soft curls and pulls ever so slightly. Nicole gasps, her mouth opening against Waverly’s, and Waverly takes it as an invitation to dart her tongue out, swiping it against Nicole’s lower lip.

Nicole lets out an incoherent noise and the mood of the kiss changes. Her tongue responds in sorts, while the hand on Waverly’s cheek moves down, stroking the column of pale skin before skirting around the outer swell of Waverly’s breast through the thin cotton barrier of Waverly’s pyjamas until it rests on Waverly’s waist. Nicole’s fingers dig in, and her mouth urges Waverly’s on, deepening the kiss as it becomes messier and more insistent.

The hand on Waverly’s waist changes something, the utmost care that Nicole has to not push past any of Waverly’s boundaries when all Waverly wants is for them to be knocked down over and over again, and Waverly feels her entire body humming with need. She kisses Nicole more forcefully, rolling the redhead over until she’s lying flat on her back on the mattress and then taking the opportunity to swing one of her legs over Nicole’s hips until she is straddling her in a messy tangle of limbs and bedsheets. The suddenness of the gesture forces their mouths apart and Waverly takes a moment to appreciate the vision before her, Nicole’s red hair splayed across her pillow, her eyes dark and hazy with arousal, and her lips parted in a silent gasp.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Waverly verbalises her thoughts, brushing loose strands of Nicole’s hair out of the way, before she dives back in for another kiss.

Now that she is familiar with the feeling of Nicole’s mouth on her own, Waverly sets out to explore even more, testing out what Nicole likes and how she responds to each action. They both laugh as the long curtain of Waverly’s hair gets in the way, and Nicole uses one of her hands to sweep it out of the way, then lets out a soft moan as Waverly’s way of thanking her is to take Nicole’s lower lip between her teeth and pull.

The noise stirs something deep within Waverly, a spark of something shooting from deep within her gut right between her legs, and the position that they are currently in, with Waverly’s legs either side of Nicole’s hips, does nothing but heighten her arousal. Nicole’s hands seek out Waverly’s waist, before slipping under the hem of Waverly’s pyjama top and threatening to move higher.

And Waverly wants her to. _God,_ Waverly wants Nicole’s hands on her. Beneath her top, under her shorts, _everywhere_. The pyjamas that seemed to skimpy earlier are now far too much of a barrier for what Waverly has in mind.

But…

(Oh, _why_ does there have to be a but?)

But little Alice is sleeping only feet away, and Waverly can make no promises to remain quiet if they continue down this path. And Waverly has no intention of having to explain to her sister how the girl, who is spending the night with her Auntie Waverly to avoid this exact scenario, has ended up being scarred for life by the naked romp of an entirely different couple.

“Nicole,” Waverly gasps, pulling away from the kiss with reluctance, though every bone on her body still feels as though it is a blazing inferno.

“I know,” agrees Nicole, her breath laboured as she removes her hands from beneath Waverly’s pyjama top and lets them fall down to her sides. “Alice.”

Her niece’s name is a real mood-killer, but it is exactly what Waverly needs to remind her that this can’t happen.

Not yet, anyway.

“Ugh,” groans Waverly, rolling to the side and lying a respectable distance away from Nicole on the mattress. “You have no idea how much I hate my sister right now. She’s getting some and I’m not, because of _her_ daughter. I _knew_ I should have let Doc take Alice for the night.”

“Hey, it’s fine,” says Nicole, reaching out and tangling the fingers of her hand with Waverly’s. Waverly likes the way that their hands fit together, like two connecting pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. “I’m kind of really hoping that you’ll let me take you out some time.”

“Really?” Waverly asks hopefully. “You’d want that?”

“Of course I would,” nods Nicole. She raises an eyebrow, then adds, “There’s some other things that I want too, but I’m willing to wait for those.”

“How chivalrous,” teases Waverly, before she leans across Nicole’s body to flick the switch on the lamp still glowing on the nightstand. As the room plunges into darkness, Waverly asks, “Cuddle me?”

Nicole obeys wordlessly, diminishing the gap between them on the bed until one of her arms is draped across Waverly’s waist, the other one brushing Waverly’s long hair out of the way of her face.

“I know there’s a stereotype that lesbians move in with each other within about five minutes of dating each other,” Nicole says through the darkness, “but we’ve taken it to a new level. Look at us. Spending a chaste night in bed beside each other while a child in our care sleeps in the same room.”

“There was nothing _chaste_ about the way you kissed me,” Waverly points out with a snort.

“I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I liked it.”

“Yeah?”

Though the room is dark, Waverly’s eyes are rapidly adjusting to the dark and she can see the way that Nicole is looking at her, like she is a treat waiting to be devoured, and she can feel Nicole’s warm breath on her face, a reminder of the fact that their faces are close enough for their lips to meet again.

“Nicole,” Waverly whines, the voice of reason winning out in her mind as she reminds the redhead of her niece’s presence. “Alice.”

“Right,” agrees Nicole, moving her head so that they are not quite so face to face, though her arm tightens around Waverly’s waist. “Night, Waverly.”

Waverly mumbles a goodnight in response, and it is not long before she drifts off into a peaceful slumber with Nicole’s arms around her.

* * *

Waverly is woken by a series of loud raps on the door to her hotel room.

She’s aware of a warm mass behind her, as well as a pair of strong arms around her waist, and the events of the previous night come flooding back, of drinking, of dancing, of struggling to keep her hands to herself despite the gorgeous woman in her bed. Nicole nuzzles sleepily into the back of Waverly’s neck, her arms only tightening around Waverly as the knocking on the door rouses her into consciousness too.

“Babygirl, open this damn door. I want to see my daughter.”

It’s most unlike Wynonna to be awake this early in the morning, particularly after she has presumably been awake for most of the night getting up to god knows what with her new husband, and despite her irritation at having to leave the warm cocoon of Nicole’s arms to let her sister inside, Waverly feels her heart soften at the knowledge that Wynonna’s maternal love is clearly strong enough to justify getting out of bed so early.

“Coming,” mumbles Waverly, carefully extracting herself from Nicole’s embrace and padding across the room to the door, rubbing at her bleary eyes as she goes.

As she flings the door open, Wynonna choose to forgo a greeting, instead pushing her way inside the hotel room and making a beeline for where Alice still sleeps soundly in the other bed.

“Hey there, baby,” Wynonna coos, taking a seat on the edge of the bed, apparently oblivious to the fourth person in the room, as she strokes her fingers through Alice’s wispy hair and gently wakes her daughter up. “Mommy missed you _so_ much last night. Have you been a good girl for Auntie Waverly?”

“She was the best,” Waverly tells Wynonna. “She fell asleep before we finished reading her bedtime story to her.”

“’We’?” queries Wynonna, looking up at Waverly in confusion, before her eyes fall to the tuft of red hair peeking out from under the covers on Waverly’s bed. Her face contorting into an expression of horror as her mind starts to piece together what this means, Wynonna continues, “Oh _god_ , please tell me that you didn’t … not in front of my daughter…”

“No,” confirms Waverly. “We didn’t. You owe me, by the way. Big time. You have no idea how hard it was to keep my hands to myself last night.”

Wynonna grimaces and mimes being sick. Meanwhile, behind Waverly, Nicole begins to stir and lifts her tousled head from the pillow as she blinks blearily at her surroundings.

“Morning,” she says to the two women, her throat husky from sleep in a way that has Waverly clenching her thighs together in a memory of the last time Nicole’s voice sounded like that and, more importantly, _why_.

“Hi, Nicole,” Wynonna says, her voice uncertain as her eyes flit between the two women. Picking up a whining Alice in her arms, Wynonna nods towards the door, and then says, “Well, I should get going. And then you two can … do whatever it is that lesbians do.”

Wynonna pulls another face and starts gathering Alice’s things up with her free hand, shoving them haphazardly into the overnight bag that she prepared for her daughter’s night away from her.

Waverly tries not to seem too eager to usher her sister out of the room, but there’s really only one thing on her mind. With Nicole, her hair a tousled mess and her eyes groggy from being woken up so abruptly, looking impossibly more attractive than she did last night, Waverly can’t help but want Wynonna and Alice out of the room as soon as possible so that she can have Nicole all to herself.

When Wynonna finally leaves, only after pulling at least half a dozen more faces at the fact that there is a woman in her sister’s bed, Waverly closes the door behind her with a sense of finality, a smile on her face at the fact that she finally has the privacy to do to Nicole what she’s been wanting to do since last night.

“I never did say thank you for helping me to look after Alice,” says Waverly, climbing onto the bed at its foot and crawling up Nicole’s body like a predator stalking her prey, until she is in a position that feels very familiar from last night, with her thighs straddling Nicole’s hips. “Is there any way I can pay you back?”

Nicole’s eyes darken and her mouth turns up into a wicked smile, before she flips their positions suddenly and leans in so that her warm breath tickles Waverly’s face, as she answers, “I’m sure we can come up with something.”

**Author's Note:**

> Because I know what you horndogs are like, I feel the need to let you know that there will be no follow up to this fic. I hope you enjoy it as a stand-alone piece regardless!
> 
> Come and find me on tumblr! [@almostafantasia](http://almostafantasia.tumblr.com)


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